I'd Do Anything
by KatChenoweth
Summary: Delia Azarola is not shy - She simply wants to be left alone. With no need for companionship of any kind, she is perfectly happy keeping to herself. But when her stubborn Transfiguration teacher gets involved, Delia's life will take a drastic turn. RLOC
1. Prologue

**I'd Do Anything**

Chapter One: Prologue (Edited 6/20/08)

_"Things bad begun make strong themselves by ill."_

_William Shakespeare, Macbeth Act III, ii_

"Pick a card, any card," an attractive brunette purred at Matt Britton while spreading out a deck of cards face down in front of him.

Matt gulped.

He knew what lay beneath the cards, and quite frankly, he was nervous. Never before in his life had he done something that would greatly affect his future as much as this would.

In fact, Matt had never done anything that would make a name for him before, like this could.

He clasped his sweaty left palm onto the creamy white hand of his girlfriend Whitney. His dark auburn eyes glanced over to her pale blue ones. She nodded slightly, confirming that this was what she wanted to do.

Slowly he reached out to pick up the card that would determine whether or not he and Whitney would be initiated into the group his father saw it vital for him to join if he ever wanted to succeed in life in this day of age.

Mr. Britton was the head banker at the National Bank of the Netherlands, so he had a keen sense of what it took to be successful. Seeing as he was from a lower-class farming family and had risen to become one of the most powerful men in Europe in a matter of years after the Second World War caused Matt to feel inferior.

However, by joining this group of high-society types that discussed the happenings and the future of Western Europe, Matt felt his Dad would be proud of him for once.

Beneath the card was the task that they would be required to fulfill in order to become members.

Matt was beginning to hope that their task would take place outside of the stuffy sitting room at the Hotel de Bilderberg. The room they were currently residing in had begun to fill with the foul stench of the cigarettes and cigars, which the twenty or so members were smoking. With unnerving intensity, they watched the couple as they worked to become one of them.

He could tell Whitney wanted to get some fresh air also by the way her nose crinkled with distaste. Matt's hand flipped over a card that was a little bit to right of the middle and he read out loud what was written on the front.

"Go into Room 815 and bring back an artifact from the room to prove that you had been there."

The throb of members that had surrounded Matt and Whitney erupted into raucous chatter. Matt's ears could pick up a few words of all of the conversations that were taking place around him, but only one word stood out to him. 'Ominous'.

But Matt could've cared less.

The task sounded easy enough, and all he was worried about was Whitney. She had heard the conversations too, and was trembling at the mere thought of entering the dreaded room. She played with her straight blonde locks, which had always been a nervous trait of hers.

Yet, her need to leave the horrendous smelling room caused a surge of courage to run through her veins, seeing as she pulled at Matt's large hand and dragged him out of the sitting room.

Their joined hands separated as they came upon the door of Room 815. When she was about a few feet from the entrance, Whitney stopped dead in her tracks. Her feet refused to move an inch for all of her muscles had fastened together and her knees buckled as a result.

Matt could sense the terror radiating from her, so he cupped her cheek and forced her to look at him in the eye.

"Are you sure you want to do this?" he asked her.

"Y-y-yes, I d-dd-do." Whitney muttered with her eyes wide with fear.

Matt walked so that his body was blocking her vision of the door. He gave her a chaste kiss that made her lips tingle with warmth.

"You'll be fine," he reassured her, "I'll be right beside the entire way."

The tension that had been quickly building inside of Whitney evaporated immediately. Her sullen face turned into a full fledged smile as her eyes met his before he dashed into the room with her following after.

Inside of room 815 stood two men, waiting like lions to pounce on their prey, covered by the darkness of the lightless room. The shorter of the two was closer to the door, his wand grasped in his sweaty palm.

He glanced at his companion, a taller and much darker man. His throat instantly became dry at the piercing stare of his could-be master.

He had been promised an offer could not refuse if he were to complete the assignment; to dispose of two muggles. The reward was a seemingly honorable spot in the Knights of Walpurgis.

"Are you prepared?" Voldemort's icy tone drawled out.

Claec Azarola responded with a curt nod before focusing his gaze upon the doorway. He raised his wand as the door creaked open and aimed it towards the first being that entered and rung out, "Avada Kedavra!"

A blinding green light emitted from Claec's wand and hit the masculine looking figure squarely at where his heart would be.

The figure crumbled over onto the wooden floor as if its body were one of those muggle contraptions known as a slinky.

Another figure darted to where the deceased one laid and screeched out an ear piercing cry, "Matt! Matt! Are you alright?!"

_'Kill the girl now.'_ Voldemort ordered Claec.

He complied and repeated the killing curse, sending her to fall on top of 'Matt'. Voldemort smirked darkly at Claec as he slowly toward him.

"Well, Claec, I must say that I am surprised. You have proved yourself worthy of being my servant by not only completing your assignment but also by leaving your family so your powers can be of use to me whenever I need them."

Claec didn't respond. He only hung his head, submitting his gratitude to his leader. This made Voldemort's smirk grow, knowing that he now had one of the wizarding world's most powerful Aurors in his grasp.

The next day at hogwarts Albus Dumbledore was dozing in his newly appointed office when he heard the sound of someone entering. He sat up straight, an instinct of his, and he gave a small smile to the witch who was now in his presence.

"Ah, Minerva! To what do I owe the pleasure of you being here?" He asked whilst his vivid blue eyes twinkled.

Minerva McGonagall, the new Transfiguration teacher he hired to replace him, gave him a desperate look and placed on his desk, quite forcefully, two newspapers; One was the Daily Prophet while the other was the Guardian.

Albus glanced down at the articles, and both were eventually related to the disappearance of Claec Azarola and the death of two muggles at the Hotel de Bilderberg.

"Professor, I-"

Albus halted Minerva before she could speak another word by raising his palm. "Minerva, you are no longer my pupil, so I expect you to address me as Albus."

Flabbergasted, Minerva stood silently for a few moments before continuing, "I have to ask you an important question. Are these two events tied to each other?"

Albus didn't answer at first. He instead shifted his gaze to his Phoenix, Fawkes. The bird let out a shrill cry that caused Minerva to jump.

"Yes, unfortunately they are," he stated simply leaving the discussion at that.

Minerva took the hint and left the Headmaster's office unwillingly.

Once the door had shut behind her Albus released a sigh and walked over to Fawkes' post. He placed his index finger under the phoenix's chin and scratched it causing him to caw happily.

"Fawkes, do you too sense the dense feeling of war upon us?" Albus muttered under his breathe. The bird cried out again which made the Headmaster sigh a second time.

**Author's Notes: R & R Please! **

_This is what Death eaters were called at the very beginning after being formed._


	2. The World is Upside Down

"The most minor event can affect everything, and when that seemingly insufficient thing happens it sets everything else in

**Chapter Two: The World is Upside Down**

_"The most minor event can affect everything; and, when that seemingly insufficient thing happens, it sets everything else in motion... The most minor event can change everything...sometimes for the better, even if it doesn't seem like it at first."__Zach Braff_

**Hatfield, August 16****th****, 1971**

'It's been five years since Claec left,' Athelward noted mentally while taking a bite of the cereal he had prepared for himself just moments before, as he tiredly looked upwards, he noted the clock read 5:15

While his mouth was still full, it was pried open by a yawn, forcing him to cover his mouth with his hand so none of his food would spill from his mouth.

He cracked his eyes open to be greeted by the light that he was required to turn on in order to see his way around the rundown kitchen.

He had been awoken by his mother's wailing cries that echoed throughout their Hertfordshire home.

Each year, this had been a reoccurring event that always took place on the anniversary of his father's disappearance, and, by now, it seemed to be routine for most of the Azarola family.

At that moment, Athelward's sister entered the kitchen, ignoring his presence as she headed for the refrigerator. Delia was not a morning person. She opened it and took out what was left of the carton of milk.

"She woke you up too, huh?" he asked, slightly bemused by Delia's appearance.

Her normally straight corn-colored hair was unbelievably frizzy and unkempt, and she was wearing a baggy old shirt and pants that were at least two sizes too big for pajamas.

After taking a swig of milk, she shot him a scathing look. He sighed as he watched her fix herself a bowl of cereal.

He had been hoping that she would finally speak after five years of sworn muteness. Ever since Claec left when she was six, Delia Azarola hadn't uttered a single word.

The reason Delia had been silent for so long was because of their mother, Deidre. Athelward had always been aware of Deidre's neglect of Delia since it began when he was ten.

His mother blamed Delia for Claec leaving.

Normally, by the age of six, all wizarding children would have shown signs of possessing magic, but Delia hadn't. There was no freak accident, mysterious occurrence, or even a flying episode.

To her father, she seemed to be the worst thing a person in the Azarola family could be: normal.

He had always taken pride in his family's pureblood status, but this was unforgivable to him.

The night before he left, Claec and Deidre had a verbal battle. He accused her of having an affair with a Muggle.

"There is no way that _thing _is mine," he exclaimed so loud that Athelward and Delia could hear him from Athelward's room where Delia had gone to seek shelter, "Everyone in the Azarola family has been a witch or a wizard! There has never been one who wasn't."

Th couple argued for hours. All the while, their children heard every curse they passed to one another.

The dispute ended with Claec exited the house, swearing under his breath, leaving behind a sobbing wife and two trembling kids.

Athelward and Delia knew better than to try and comfort their mom. But later, she had to confront them sooner or later

She held Delia liable for not being a witch, and punished her for it by paying no attention to her.

Delia, wracked with guilt for something she couldn't control, vowed to herself that she wouldn't cause anyone pain, and would accomplish that by silence.

She had just plopped down at the table where Athelward sat in a chair across from him and started consuming her breakfast when he felt compelled to say, "You know, I've been counting the days, and I very surprised to say that you have been silent for exactly one thousand, eight hundred and twenty six days. You held your oath a lot longer than I expected you too."

This statement halted her actions immediately.

Without lifting her gaze, she raised her hand and gave him the middle finger salute.

Athelward confounded that his eleven year old sister knew such a crude hand gesture, choked out, "She showed you that, didn't she?"

Delia didn't respond, but continued to eat her cereal. He took that as a yes.

Athelward shook his head in shock at his sister's ability to pick up things so quickly.

When he had learned it in his third year at Hogwarts, he had to ask one of his mates what the sign meant.

Now, about to enter his fifth year as a Slytherin, he knew much more about the teenage lifestyle.

They continued their breakfast slowly, and, a half hour later, the sun started to rise in the horizon.

As Athelward was clearing their bowls and started to begin washing them, an owl swooped down upon their kitchen window sill.

_Peck. Peck. Peck._

Its beak clashed against the closed glass furiously; his want to be inside was evident.

"Delia, could you let him in, please?" Athelward asked over his shoulder whilst drying his hands of the suds from the sink, "It's probably for me…" His voice dropped what he was going to say next. He was aware that his sister didn't like Hogwarts being mentioned in her presence.

She sighed as she got up from her chair at the kitchen table, and made her way to open the window.

When she did, the hazel barn owl hopped onto the nearest counter and held out its foot, which had letters tied around it.

Athelward looked at the bird curiously while he took the letters from it.

Once it was free of the letters, the owl spread its wings and flew back out the window.

Athelward turned his gaze towards the letters and his eyes bulged a bit from their sockets when he read who the top one was addressed to:

_Miss Delia Azarola_

_42 Briargrove Lane_

_Hatfield, Hertfordshire_

_In the Kitchen_

He quickly turned the letter over and found the seal that was very familiar to him.

It was from Hogwarts.

...

**King's Cross, September 1****st****, 1971**

Remus Lupin turned towards his parents as the scarlet train blasted an ear piercing screech telling everyone that the Hogwarts Express was about to leave the platform.

Remus was sure that he felt a pang in his chest when he saw his parents' faces. They were creased with wrinkles he hadn't noticed before, along with dark circles running under their eyes from lack of sleep.

"_I can't blame them,_" he thought to himself, "_I would be worried too if my only child was leaving me for a wizarding school._"

But they all knew that wasn't the reason.

They were worried about him going to school because of his "condition."

...

_At the age of five, Remus was a curious child and he loved to explore. His mother usually let him wander through their backyard some afternoons, just to get the little tyke out of her hair for fifteen minutes._

_He decided, one day, that he had not done enough exploring. He crept out of his house after dark and started looking for new discoveries the night might bring._

_He heard something rustling behind him while he was investigating a batch of fireflies. He turned around and saw an outline of what appeared to be a rather large dog._

"_Doggy!" Remus giggled as he approached the shadowed figure with his arm stretched out to pet the dog._

_Instead of a soft pallet of fur, he felt piercing pain rip through his upper arm, making him shriek with anguish. _

_He yanked his arm away from the being and ran, crying, back towards his house. His mother had heard his cries from her room and had come rushing towards her ailing son._

_He grabbed her into a fierce hug and started rubbing his face onto the nightgown she was currently wearing._

"_Remus? Honey, what's wrong?" _

_He held up his arm, without lifting his head, and showed her his bite mark. _

...

Remus glanced up at his mother's warm brown eyes and saw that they were glistening. As she noticed this, she wiped the tears away and forced a smile.

"Remus, you are a wonderful person no matter what anybody says, remember that," his mother stated while leaning down and planting a loving kiss on her son's forehead.

"Muuuuuuummmm! Do you know how cheesy that sounded?!" Remus muttered while shaking his head of sandy brown hair, trying to cover the blush that had overcome his cheeks.

Emily Lupin chuckled at her son's response. She tapped his back silently, urging him forward which he did very willingly.

"We'll owl you at least twice a week!" she called out to his retreating form, which was getting aboard the train.

Once he was out of her sight, she buried her head into her husband's shoulder, letting out numerous silent sobs.

John Lupin put his arms around his wife and started patting her on the back, trying to calm her. "He'll be fine Em," he stated, leaning down and kissing her on top of her fine brown hair. "Dumbledore will make sure of it."

**A/n: Okay, now before you start wondering 'What was Delia's reaction to the letter?' all I have to say is you'll find out in the next chapter. I promise: )**


	3. Of Trains and Loons

**Chapter Three: Of Trains and Loons**

_"People are just about as happy as they make up their minds to be."_ **Abraham Lincoln**

Delia stared at the train.

She had been standing alone about a foot from it on the crowded platform for at least fifteen minutes. Athelward had already boarded the train earlier with his friends, leaving her to accept the fact that she too would be riding the train to Hogwarts in just a few moments.

She raised her arm and pressed her palm to the glossy metal of the train that labeled it as the Hogwarts Express. She traced the letters out, even though it was scalding to touch, dazed and confused.

Delia had bee imagining what her reaction would be if she were there, for years. She always pictured herself excited or ecstatic, but never did she think she would feel indifferent.

There was no joy in her, nor was there a tingling feeling of happiness in her skin. If anything, she felt dejected about being accepted into Hogwarts.

As she touched the train her mind recalled to the day she received the letter.

_After staring at the seal for a few moments in disbelief Athelward shakily held it out._

"_It's for you," he mumbled._

_Delia looked at him for a second and then shifted her gaze toward the letter. She took it from him and held it delicately in her hands, like a mother would that with a newborn infant._

_She ran her left thumb over her scribed name. The paper felt cool from the morning air and the mixed scent of ink and wax filled her nose._

_Carefully, she peeled off the seal, being sure not to tear it or the envelope. She pulled out the first parchment and read: _

Dear Miss Azarola,

We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted into Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment.

Term begins on September 1. We await your owl by no later than July 31.

Yours sincerely,

Minerva McGonagall,

Deputy Headmistress

_Her grip tightened immensely as she finished the letter._

_Her brother watched her reaction, once he was positive that she had completely read it he started walking towards the stairs while saying, "I'm going to let Deidre know."_

_He was stopped in his tracks by Delia's arm shooting out and forcefully grasping his wrist. Athelward slightly winced in pain but then drew his attention to Delia who was shaking her head vigorously._

_She was shaking it so hard he was certain that her neck would break if she did not stop soon._

_He put his other hand on her shoulder and whispered fiercely, "Fine! I won't tell her…yet. She would be pleased to find out about your acceptance."_

_Delia shook her head one last time before lifting her eyes and fixing them on his. They were pleading for him not to tell, but why?_

_He was confident that their mother would love the fact that she was a…witch… after all._

_Oh._

_He looked down sympathetically at her. He now knew why she didn't want her to know._

'_She's afraid of her hating her even more,' he thought to himself as he enveloped his arms around her to embrace her. She laid her head on his chest and he bent his to kiss the top of it._

"_Will you speak now at least?" Athelward asked, and almost dreading the answer, "I mean, you only remained silent because you weren't a witch, right?"_

_She drew herself from his arms, without a word and walked away without giving him an answer._

Delia was awoken from her day dream by the shrill sound of the whistle blowing. She hastily took up her bags and boarded the train.

In a compartment right in the middle of the third cart sat a rather pudgy boy around eleven. His pointed nose and puffy cheeks gave him the appearance of a rat.

Peter Pettigrew had been anxiously biting his nails, worrying of what Hogwarts would be like, when the compartment door slid open, revealing a boy around his age in shabby clothes.

His hair was of a sandy brown and he had a worn and tired face. He gave a weary smile before asking in a hoarse voice, "Is it alright if I join you?"

Peter nodded slowly, the lad seemed nice enough, so why not let him join him?

After putting his bags away the newcomer sat on a bench across from Peter and stuck out his hand.

"Remus Lupin," he introduced himself.

Peter took his hand and shook it eagerly, "Peter Pettigrew. Is this your first year too?"

The boy beamed at this, "Was it that obvious?"

Peter chuckled and shook his head, "No, it's just that we look about the same age."

"I guess we do!" Remus confirmed slyly after scrutinizing him.

At that moment the door slid open for a second time, and a girl entered.

Her face was covered by her straw-like hair, but she was taking in deep breaths, from running to catch the train Peter assumed.

She quickly shoved her bags under the seat and plopped herself down a foot or two ways from Peter.

Without saying a word she leaned her head against the compartment wall and closed her eyes.

Peter thought that sitting with them without their permission was rather rude of her, but nonetheless Remus inquired, "Excuse me, but what's your name?"

The girl didn't move a muscle.

Peter glanced down and looked at her bag and found the name Delia Azarola printed on it. He cleared his throat before asking, "Delia is it?"

At this the girl lifted her head and pushed her hair out of her face to reveal two murky brown eyes.

She just gazed at the two boys before drawing her attention out the window that was next to her.

Peter gave the impression of being distressed over her presence with them by squirming in his seat, so Remus excused them and he got up and picked up his bags and headed out of the compartment with Peter following after him. They didn't look back at the girl, and she didn't turn her head to them.

Once outside the compartment the boys searched for another compartment. They found one that occupied only two other boys.

Both had jet black hair, but one had glasses and messy hair, while the other's was shaggy.

"Can we join you?" Remus asked.

Peter quickly added, "A loony girl came into our compartment and we wanted to get away from her."

After saying this he blushed, knowing that what he had said had been slightly mean, but he felt the other boys would understand.

The shaggy haired boy grinned at his friend to his left. "It's not like we really care anyway, right James?"

Peter's blush deepened as he put his thing away. Remus nodded his thanks and did the same as Peter.

Once seated, they exchanged names. The shaggy haired kid introduced himself as Sirius, and they quickly got engaged into a conversation about Quidditch.

Later on, they returned to the topic of the strange girl who had invaded Peter and Remus' compartment.

"Do you know her name?" James asked.

Remus nodded, "Yes. It was Delia Azarola according to her trunk."

Sirius' back straightened at this. "Wait, Azarola?"

"Yeah!" Peter squeaked, "And she was really nutty too. She wouldn't speak a word."

James ignored him and shifted his gaze towards Sirius. "You know her mate?"

He shook his head, his brow furrowing in thought, and replied, "No, but that name sounds familiar."

Remus tilted his head, "Maybe it'll come back to you later."

He nodded, "Yeah…maybe."

The boys conversed for the rest of the train ride until it was time for them to put their robes on.

On the other end of the train, all by herself and content, Delia also changed for her first year at Hogwarts.

**A/N: Gah! Sorry it's taking me so long to update. Blame the cruddy school system with their never ending exams and projects. This chapter isn't that great, but the next one will be extremely better because it's the sorting! Anyway, R&R! **


	4. Curiosity Does Not Just Kill Cats

**Chapter Four: Curiosity Does Not Just Kill Cats **

**IMPORTANT: I know in the last chapter I said that McGonagall was the deputy Headmistress, but in this chapter it's not so. I'm going to change it, and other things once this is validated.**

"The real problem is in the hearts and minds of men. It is easier to denature plutonium than to denature the evil spirit of man."  
- Albert Einstein

As Delia got off the train a deep rough voice called out, "Firs' years. Firs' years over here."

Delia looked around her, trying to determine where the voice came from. Before she could figure it out, a being collided with her. Hard. She was sent sprawling onto the concrete platform. Out of reflex she put her hands in front of her to lessen the damage to the rest of her body.

Delia closed her eyes and hissed in pain from the impact. She could feel the stone scratch up her skin and the blood starting to flow down her hands.

She cracked her eyes open, and slowly turned onto her other side, each move making her body ache, to see a dark sneering boy leaning over her. His crooked nose was crinkled with obvious distaste.

Without saying a word, the boy spun around and started to hastily walk away, the hem of his robe fluttering behind him not unlike the wings of a bat.

Delia took in a short intake of air before pushing herself up. She winced as she dusted her hands from the grime and dirt of the floor. She glanced around her and noticed that barely anyone had noticed her incident.

There was only a hand full of curious onlookers checking visually if she was alright, but none came to assist her.

She shrugged this off and went out to find where she had thought she had heard the person calling the attention of the first years originated from. She soon found herself near the lake she had heard her brother talk about before.

She gazed at the reflection of the stars in the dark water and wondered if there were things like stars in the lake.

Her thoughts were interrupted by the deep voice calling out again, "Firs' years over here!"

She fixed her eyes on a rather enormous man with a coarse black beard that seemed as if it had not seen a comb in years. Her eyes widened slightly in shock in response to the man's size, but after a second they went back to their normal size.

Delia watched as a giggling group of girls her age walked up to the man and he pointed them towards a small empty boat that could carry up to four of them.

She guessed that was how they were going to be traveling to the castle, and she started over towards an empty one that was sitting on the bank only a few feet away from her.

After a couple of minutes, and it seemed that all the first years were in a boat, the giant man got into a boat himself and the boats begun to drift through the lake.

Delia sat alone, and she didn't really mind. She enjoyed being alone. It suited her. She stared at the growing figure that was Hogwarts, and was slightly troubled by its extent. The castle itself slightly resembled rows of witch hats that were on top of poles sticking out from a stone box. And it was massive.

The size meant one thing that Delia wasn't pleasant about. People. People talked, they joked, and they accused. She had known that there were going to be other students and she had learned to accept that fact, but that didn't mean she was happy about it.

When she had been in the compartment with the two boys, and they had talked to her she felt cold and uncomfortable. It had been a long time since someone had talked to her that wasn't her brother, Athelward, or her mother, but that was only on rare occasions. When those boys had spoken to her, her muscles tensed and she had turned into stone.

She would have preferred to have been ignored entirely, but she had a hunch that wouldn't be the case for the next seven years. She would just have to get used to people talking to her.

Minutes later, the boats had reached shore and the new students had entered the castle and had soon found themselves standing at the base of a marble staircase and facing towards a pair of double doors.

In front of the doors stood a rather aged witch, whose face was gently folded with wrinkles, which became more apparent when she beamed sweetly at them. Delia could hear a boy a few inches from her whispering to one of his friends, "That's Professor Howard. She's the Divination teacher and head of Hufflepuff. My elder sister told me she's mental."

Delia glanced back at the woman studied her. She didn't seem to be insane; to Delia she gave the impression of being quite kind. Delia was quick to remind herself that kindness had nothing to do with one's mentality status.

"Welcome to Hogwarts," The Professor said in a soft gentle voice, "Soon, there will be a start-of-the-term banquet, but first you will each be sorted into houses. This house will be sort of a mock family to you. You sleep, eat, and learn with them.

"There are four houses in which you can be sorted into. They are Hufflepuff, Slytherin, Ravenclaw, and Gryffindor. Each house has its very own intriguing history, including fantastic witches and wizards from each one. While you are here you will be earning and losing house point, which, at the end of the year, the house that has the most of them will be earning the honor of the house cup.

"I'm going to leave for a moment to check up on thing in there and when they are ready for you, I will return and the sorting will take place," With that the short woman slid through the doors and left a group of anticipated children chatting.

"I hope I'm in Ravenclaw!" One girl cried.

"You're too daft to be sorted there. You're also too cowardly to be in Gryffindor and too impure to be in Slytherin. So I suppose you're stuck with Hufflepuff, where all the rejects are," Another claimed.

"That's not true!" A boy stepped in, "My dad was a Hufflepuff, and he's now a powerful man at the ministry."

Delia just ignored all of the trivial conversations about which house one hoped to be in, and focused on what her plan would be if anyone were to approach her about being mute, which she was positive would happen sooner than later.

She let a sigh escape her, being exasperated with herself for not thinking of this earlier. She had started to purse her lips when an observation struck her.

Why had she come here? She had known what the outcomes would be, and how dreadful she would be. Perhaps it was the thought of proving her parents wrong, that she wasn't some horrendous squib that tarnished the Azarola name. Or just to prove to herself that she was in this god forsaken world for a good reason.

Whatever the reason was, the thought had vanished from her mind when the double door opened, revealing a vast room that held numerous students and teachers sitting at long wooden tables. Four were vertically placed in front of a horizontal table where the teachers sat.

Professor Howard gestured them to enter the hall, and all eyes were fixated upon the first years that were slowly walking in awe towards the high table. There on the raised platform stood an bare stool.

Silently and quickly, she placed a seemingly ratty hat onto the stool and backed away a few feet from it. A few mere moments later the hat came to life and facial features appeared on it before it began to sing his song:

_"Some may call me legend,  
But I don't agree with that,  
For I am but a humble,  
And simple Sorting Hat.  
I'll sort you into houses,  
Divide you into four,  
Your house will be like family,  
True friends you can't ignore._

"In Gryffindor I will place,  
Those with courageous hearts.  
In Ravenclaw will go,  
Those with the greatest smarts.  
Loyal Hufflepuff will be joined,  
By those unafraid of work.  
In Slytherin will go those,  
Who find success their greatest perk.

"Four houses within one school,  
Your talents will determine,  
Your family for these years to come,  
And good friends too, I'm certain.  
But though you'll be divided,  
Ensure your hearts stay true.  
Real friends can be found beyond one's house,  
Don't judge lest you be judged too.

"True friends will be important,  
In the times that lie ahead,  
A war is slowly growing,  
It will fill this school with dread.  
So stay true to each other,  
Put rivalries aside,  
For soon the time will come,  
For all houses to unite."

Once she was positive that the hat was finished Professor Howard declared, "I shall now call your names alphabetically. Azarola, Delia."

A few heads started to mutter at the name and some looked curiously at Athelward Azarola, they had not known he had a sister.

Delia ashamed of her last name betraying her, making her be the first one to undergo the sorting, and the embarrassment it caused her. She swiftly went up to the stool and plopped down onto it.

Remus watched as the girl he had briefly shared a compartment with rushed up to the sorting hat and as Professor Howard placed it upon her head. He nudged Peter, who nudged Sirius, who nudged James, to let him know that that was the loony girl they had seen previously.

"Wonder what house she will be put in," Peter muttered, mostly to himself. Whatever house it would be, he prayed that he wouldn't be in the same one as her.

What seemed like minutes later, the hat finally cried out, "SLYTHERIN!"

A polite applause erupted throughout the hall, although no one seem enthralled that the most ill-favored house was receiving another member, including its own members. The only person who seemed slightly about the outcome was Athelward; he was relieved that he could keep a close eye on his younger sister better in his own house.

Sitting beside him was Lucius Malfoy, a friend of his. He raised a platinum blonde eyebrow up quizzically as Delia hastily walked to the far end of the Slytherin table, where no one was sitting. He had been one of the few who were aware of her existence at Hogwarts. The only reason he knew of her was because of an encounter that had occurred with Athelward the previous year.

______________________________________________________________________

_Lucius entered the dimly lit Slytherin common room and found that only one person was there at that precise moment and that was Athelward Azarola. He could see his boyish face by the casting made by the fire, which flickered around._

_In Athelward's hand there was a single piece of parchment. He was sneering at it, and eventually he tossed it into the flames, that devoured it in mere moment. _

_Lucius cautiously approached him. Then he asked as if the answer didn't matter to him, "Letter from home?"_

_Out of frustration he ran his hands roughly through his hair, but he soon exhaled a single word, "Yes."_

_At this Lucius sat down next to him, he was intrigued by his anger. Never before had he seen Athelward so angry, so…irritated. This made him wonder why his family caused him to be as such. Athelward had never really talked about his family to him, nothing personal for that matter. Curiosity soon over flooded inside of Lucius._

_"Family matters are always troubling. In fact, just the other day my father sent me a letter that told me that if I did not improve my marks, I should consider myself disowned!" Lucius stated, feigning sincerity._

_Not really caring about Lucius' problems, Athelward nodded. "It's my sister that's causing the trouble right now apparently."_

_Lucius was overcome with the urge for more information. "How so?"_

_"My mum's letter just claimed that she was just being her normal bratty self," Athelward said hastily, he shifted his gaze towards the brightly burning fire. He fidgeted slightly also, Lucius duly noted. All signs of falsehood._

_Athelward said nothing else, and dashed up towards their dormitory. This secret Athelward his about his younger sister made Lucius squirm with anticipation. It was most curious to him indeed._

__________________________________________________________________________

After dinner, Lucius owled his father, asking for every detail he knew about the Azarola's. Later that night a response from his father was delivered, and he was disturbed to find out that Athelward's sister was a supposed Squib. That detail almost forced him to end his 'friendship' with Athelward immediately, but he corrected his first instinct and he continued to read. His father had given him more information. He then knew all about Delia Azarola, even the reason she had sworn to silence.

He quickly jotted down another letter, and sent it into the night.

**A/N: Here's chapter four! I would like to thank Joanna K from the forums for the sorting hat song.  
VERY IMPORTANT: Look, I love this story, but I was wondering if anyone even wanted me to continue it, because if not then I won't waste time writing something no one wants to read when I could be writing something original and not fanfiction. This isn't a demand for reviews, but I was just curious.  
**


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